The Joys of Snow
by Fandom Muppet
Summary: John storms out of the flat as Sherlock has nearly lit the flat on fire. No wait, he actually did and showed no remorse for nearly destroying the flat. John, not knowing really where to go decides to go for a walk and finds himself in a quaint little park. Sherlock eventually comes around looking for his doctor. Johnlock.
1. Icy Beginnings

**This has been a good weekend for finishing stories that I kind of left. I'll add a chapter or two to this in the future but I'm staring a mulichapter thing soon. So yeah.**

**As always I do now own anything but my own ideas. Do keep in mind that reviews would be appreciated but it's up to you, the readers. I still am fairly new to the fanfic writing thing so please don't hate me. Anyways enjoy!  
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John walked around a small park. The sun was drooping down behind the buildings and grey clouds were moving it quickly. A light blanket of snow covered London. The incoming clouds covered the burnt orange sky. The air was rather chilly but then again it was November.

John had been wandering around for what seemed like hours. It probably had been. He had stupidly forgotten his phone back at the flat. Something he cursed himself for but he didn't return back to the flat. His fingers felt numb and his breath was visible in the rapidly cooling air.

Despite these things he wasn't ready to go back, it least not yet anyways. Sherlock that stupid idiot lit the flat on fire. Nothing was too badly damaged. Just a few books and the like. John was fortunately able to put it out. Sherlock's biggest concern was where was the milk was. John had to stop and count to ten at the time.

Usually when he was being such…Sometimes he can't even think of the right word. He's mad, stupid, reckless and completely Sherlock. John groaned in annoyance. When Sherlock was being like this he would go to Sarah's. But things had ended with her two weeks ago, It just wasn't working. She had said.

Personally John thought they were going at a good pace. Sure they hadn't done anything very intimate but that was just fine with him. Maybe that's the reason it didn't work out. There was only thing that really bothered him about it though.

He wasn't that broken up over their separation. Why wasn't he upset? Sure he was a little down about it but not devastated or anything. Nothing big. They had been going out for a while now. He huffed and tried pushing it out of his mind.

As John walked along he noticed a bench half shaded from the snow by a tree. He strolled over, sat down on a bench and looked around. It really was a nice place to be. The leaves had fell leaving the trees bare. The grass was covered in a sheet of snow, the lights from the lights made the snow sparkle. Overall it was a calming environment. John allowed himself to relax as much as he could. The doctor could still hear the traffic but it was a bit more muted. It was very nice. John closed his eyes.

Maybe he should head back soon. It would be getting late soon and he had work in the morning. Sherlock came to mind. Lord knows what Sherlock would have gotten himself up to after he left. John frowned, his forehead crinkling. He shouldn't have stormed off without cleaning that mess up properly. Sherlock certainly wouldn't have done it.

He let out a long sigh. To be honest John didn't necessarily want to go back. He felt at ease. John decided to allow himself a few more minutes before starting the long walk back to the main street for a taxi.

His eyes remained closed as he allowed himself to just relax. John exhaled loudly. The hair on the back of his neck stood up and he felt like he was being watched. John did not show any outward reaction but instead opened his eyes calmly.

John jumped when he found Sherlock, standing only a few feet away from him. _Why did I not hear him? _John asked himself. "Sherlock." He said lamely. He was a bit unnerved by the intense stare Sherlock had fixed on him.

The detective said nothing. "Speak of the devil." John blurted out before he could stop himself. Sherlock didn't say a word as he continued to scan him. Finally Sherlock met John's eyes. The doctor focused on maintaining eye contact.

Finally Sherlock reached into his pocket and pulled out a familiar looking phone. "John, please. You and I both know there is no such thing as the devil nor is there a God. And I, am certainly am not either." Sherlock said bluntly, not taking his eyes away from John. The doctor cleared his throat. "Right." He said averting his eyes to the phone.

"You forgot your phone when you left." Sherlock said as he held it out towards John. It took a few seconds for it to register with John before he took it. "Thanks." John said, pocketing the device. Once more silence descended between both men.

John shifted on the bench, the only immediate sign of his discomfort under Sherlock's gaze. John started to speak, not liking the extended silence. "Listen, Sherlock..." As said man's name was spoken he stepped forward, even closer than before.

"When you left the flat I spent some time reflecting. Upon more in depth look at my methods I realize that they were hardly orthodox and disorganized." He said in a clipped tone. John opened his mouth to say something but Sherlock continued. "I also realize that this had been the fourth time in the past two weeks where I had caused damage to the flat. I feel rather disconcerted for the inconvenience that this has caused the both of us."

John's mouth opened and closed as he blinked owlishly. Did Sherlock just **apologize **to him? It sounded like it had been an apology. John was unsure what to say. At looking at him John noticed Sherlock was looking at him with a level of thinly veiled expectancy. John did say anything but continued to stare. He did not bother to hide his surprise.

Sherlock sighed. "Are you not going to say it's alright John? Isn't that how this type of thing works with people?" He looked at John as if he was a child. Sherlock's comment seemed to snap John out of his surprised daze like state. "Uh it's alright." John mumbled. Sherlock looked slightly more relaxed. "You were gone for a while and you can't go to Sarah's because she broke up with you." John blinked owlishly at Sherlock. He hadn't told him that. Upon seeing John's expression Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "I am aware you never told me. I just put the pieces together with the information provided."

John shook his head. He was a genius but he knew little about social etiquette. John stood up from the bench and stretched with a small groan. He did not notice Sherlock never took his eyes of him. "Let's go back." John said with a nod. Sherlock simply motioned for John to go first, which he did.

They started walking in silence towards the entrance of the park. John kept a leisurely pace. He still felt the peace that this place emitted. John was distracted so he did not notice the patch of ice and kept his pace. John slipped, flailing a bit he gripped the closest thing to him. That certain thing happened to be Sherlock. Both men fell in a heap in the snow. Somehow John managed to be sprawled across Sherlock's back. Sherlock got a face full of snow.

John quickly crawled off Sherlock and sat back on the snowy ground.

John laughed loudly at the miffed look on Sherlock's face. He couldn't help it. He looked like an angry cat. Sherlock's face was red and snow was sprinkled in his dark curls. Sherlock looked at John. "Why does this amuse you so much?" He asked bluntly. In response John laughed even harder. "You…you…look like an angry cat." He gasped out between his laughs. Sherlock frowned. "I look nothing like a cat John. Don't be ridiculous." It didn't make any sense to the consulting detective.

"Oh but you do. I saw this cat once. You remind me of it. That adorably angry cat that Harry and I found when we were just kids!" John laughed more. Sherlock however froze on the spot. _Did John just call me adorable? _He thought to himself. Sherlock looked at John, tears were pricking the corners of his eyes and his cheeks were red.

John eventually calmed down and Sherlock still was mulling over the information of being called in a way, adorable. It wasn't like he was protest to being called well attractive in a way by John, it was the fact he was called adorable that bothered him.

Both men stood up from the snow and brushed themselves off. John started walking back towards the main streets and Sherlock was not far behind.

John was prattling on about something dull. Finally Sherlock's curiosity grew to much and he finally decided to ask the question which has been bothering him. "Do you find me adorable John?" Said man nearly tripped over his own feet in surprise. He looked at his crazy flatmate in surprise. "What?" He asked, not able to think of anything else to say.

Sherlock sighed heavily. "It's a simple question John. Do you find me adorable?" The detective looked at John expectantly. John seemed unable to answer. "You had mentioned a cat you had met and you said it was in my likeness, which is actually rather ludicrous as I am not a cat. But you said it was adorable, does that mean you think I am as well?" Sherlock explained as if he were talking to a child. John flushed lightly. In all honesty he couldn't answer Sherlock's question, not without embarrassment. "I..uhh…Did I really say that?" John chuckled uncomfortably.

Sherlock looked exasperated. Honestly, his question was hardly a difficult one to answer. "Yes John." He said dryly. If it was going to be this trivial to get a proper response he considered just bring up this subject another time.

The doctor looked even more embarrassed. "Well…Not adorable. I mean that cat was and you…you're not bad looking but.." John was struggling for the correct words. "As far as men go you are fairly attractive. But I..uh..I didn't mean.." John continued to stumble over his words. He was unaware that Sherlock has stopped walking until John was a few feet ahead. "Sherlock?" He asked looking back.

At John calling him Sherlock became responsive. Sherlock had a strange look on his face. He strode towards John purposefully. "You called me attractive." He stated as he stopped only mere inches away from John. The height difference between the two was apparent. John flushed a darker shade of pink. He was about to retort but was rendered speechless. Sherlock had leaned forward and pressed his lips against John's softly, almost hesitantly. John's shoulders were tense but he did not pull away. John swore he felt Sherlock's lips quirk into a small smile against his own.

Sherlock pulled away and looked at John expectantly. He was prepared for shouting, swearing and for John to perhaps storm off again. John however was stunned, his face was even redder than before. "We should…that was…something" John cleared his throat. "We should get home. It's going to get chilly." John finally responded. He turned and resumed walking.

Sherlock waited a second and then followed after him, a small smile on his face. He hadn't been rejected so that was good. Soon they were walking side by side, the entrance to the park was in sight. Wordlessly John slipped his hand into Sherlock's.

Neither man had let go until they had gotten into a cab.

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**Please don't hate me for anything. Again reviews would be appreciated. Thank you for reading and I hope all you lovely people have a good morning/afternoon/night.  
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	2. Snowmen Part 1

**Ahahaha. Okay firstly my computer died. My brother killed it. The time I had to write this was mostly on my dad's computer. So that's why this took so long. Apologies for any kinks I missed and thank you for waiting. This part will be split into two chapters. I'll try to update the next one before too long but I got to type it up. I have the ideas. I lack the time.**

**Reviews would be appreciated. As always I own nothing but my creative ideas. Sorry for an OOC things. Good Day.  
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The next few weeks were peaceful as a life with Sherlock could be.

Their relationship didn't differ much from before. It wasn't an actual surprise for John. The only thing that actually did change is every now and then Sherlock would press an unexpected kiss on John's lips every now and then. Sherlock after getting a successful kiss would usually then go back to whatever it was he was doing prior. It was either that or he would sulk (Not sulking) from being denied his kiss. Sherlock had to try to kiss him at the Yard once and a few times at a crime scene. That ended rather quickly with the glare that John had fixed on Sherlock. It was nice though.

John was situated in the living room currently. He was typing away at the laptop keys at a slow pace. He was giving the old blog a quick update. It was about The Woman, Irene Adler. He couldn't exactly reveal all. Still, there was a chance he readers would want to hear what little facts he was allowed to divulge. Sherlock had sped out of her earlier at a mad pace. He was yelling about research opportunity as he ran out the door. It was unsurprising when Mrs. Hudson came in asking about how he was. She often did when Sherlock ran out yelling. This time she thought they had a lover's spat again.

Once John had figured the blog was given a proper update and done he closed it down. John found himself in the silence of the flat, contemplating his strange relationship with one Sherlock Holmes once more.

Once or twice John had tried to ask where their boundaries were. Where he could expect the physical aspects to end, or to begin, what Sherlock expected of their relationship, where he wanted it to end…

Something always seemed to get in the way. During each of these times it was either Mrs. Hudson came in to check on him and Sherlock, a call from Lestrade, and even Mycroft. It was absurd on how many people had come in just as he was about to ask. Of course while working was out of the question. That would just be improper and disrespectful to the victim.

It would seem the only time he could have the chance to ask would be over text. What John wanted to talk about didn't seem to be simple enough to just talk over text. It would need to be face to face, which seemed to not happen. Still, it seemed to be the only option for John. The other option was just to wait. If he was to wait it would have to be fore a little over the two weeks. He was going to see Harry for the holidays. They were still family after all, even though their relationship was a little strained.

John stood up from his seat and stretched leisurely. John groaned when he felt his bones crack. He padded through the living room and to his own room. He'd better finishing packing. He'd almost finish it last night but a case had come up unexpectedly. John half closed his room's door behind him. Since his moving in with Sherlock his room has become a bit more personal, more so than the last place before Sherlock. Maybe it had to do with the new friend's he had made.

John went to his closet and pulled a few jumpers out. It was getting chillier lately. The snow was a treat though. He smiled. He supposed the snow could be what really made them come together. John of course had asked about it on the cab ride home. The simple response he gained from Sherlock was that is was an impulsive move, one that he felt that he wanted to do for quite some time. John did not flush when he was told that part, no matter what a certain madman would say. Grown men, ex-Army doctors did not flush.

John packed almost absentmindedly. He didn't actually have to pack much, he realized. It's not like he's going to be working or anything. A few more jumpers, another pair of trousers won't hurt. Once John felt he had packed enough things he zipped up his duffel bag. John blew out a breath of air and headed back into the sitting room. He hadn't heard anything from Sherlock yet. He would have to leave soon if he wanted to make it to Harry's before it got too late. John stood in the little living area. I should really call a cab. He thought to himself. John shook his head as a thought slipped its way into his mind. He wasn't waiting to see if Sherlock would come. He was just waiting for nothing is all.

Five minutes passed before John called a cab. No points in making Harry wait for...nothing really. It was ten minutes before the cab came. The doctor was waiting by the flat door with his bag in hand when it came. When he saw it John locked the door behind himself. With another few seconds spent on saying goodbye to Mrs. Hudson John was off to see his sister.

John was undoubtedly pleased to see it start snowing once more. Sometimes the chilly weather brought aches but he was going to admit it, he liked the snow.

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John was fairly happy. He and Harry were getting along fairly well. He had arrived later in the evening than he wanted too. Harry didn't seem to mind really. It was going well. None of the usual fights have happened yet. No excessive drinking, no yelling, no sibling guilt. Yes, John Watson was enjoying his holiday visit to his sister.

It had even snowed a bit more on his travel over here. It wasn't too much but it was pleasant. If John was completely honest he would say that he wasn't exactly looking too forward to this before. He and Harry didn't exactly see eye to eye on everything. When he was unpacking she kept questioning him on Sherlock. It was the usual question that many people asked. "Are you both together?" John hadn't exactly known how to answer that. It was a bit of a difficult situation. He wasn't exactly sure. So he did the only logical thing to do. He dodged the question with a vague response.

Thankfully Harry hadn't kept on him for long. She seemed to stare at him for a few seconds and grinned. John had felt a bit off after that smile she gave him but it didn't last long. Harry suggested they go for a walk. John didn't even hesitate to say yes.

They found themselves walking aimlessly alongside a few small shops. It was a quaint area, much unlike the busy streets John often found himself navigating. The weather wasn't too bad, cold enough to keep the snow but not enough that he would need a proper jacket. John would puff into his hands occasionally.

John was so comfortable that he didn't notice the smirk on his sister's face as she bent down and grabbed some snow. He also didn't notice when she packed the snow together. John however, did notice the snowball hitting the back of his head and the feeling of snow slipping down his collar. John turned sharply around only to get yet another snowball to the face. He almost scowled, stopping when he saw Harry's expression. It was one that wasn't on there too often. John chuckled instead.

Something seemed to catch her eyes as they walked. She seemed to shift around. "Listen Johnny, I need to go grab something for tonight. Wait out here." John nodded. As long as it wasn't alcohol, the store didn't look like it would sell it. John shoved his cold hands into his jacket pockets. "I'll be here." Harry rushed inside.

John was eying the shop and area when he saw it. A familiar shade of blue cloth was poking out of the snow. John bent down and picked it up. It was small and threadbare. An idea started to form in his mind. It was...childish. John couldn't really help himself though. This idea wouldn't really leave him alone.

John peered into the shop's window. He couldn't see Harry. John quickly scooped up some snow and clumped it together messily. He piled the snow balls together; he couldn't stop the grin that spread across his face. John placed a small snowman on a window ledge. He pulled the piece of blue scrap of the cloth around the seam of the head and body. John nodded self assuredly.

John's amusement turned to slight embarrassment when he heard the unmistakable laugh of his sister. "Wow Johnny. I didn't know you missed your boyfriend that much." She laughed again. "How..." John started. Harry held up her hand. "I searched him up on Google." John shoved his now red hands into his pockets. "Let's go on back." John almost grumbled. He started walking slowly towards Harry's place. She smirked at her brother's retreating figure. Harry reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell. She snapped a quick picture. She wasn't just going to keep this to herself. Harry trailed after John; she was already trying to guess his email's password.

It was only fair this Sherlock saw how much he had influenced her brother. Harry smirked.

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**Sorry if this is a rubbish thing. Reviews again would be appreciated. I hoped all you lovely people enjoyed this.**


	3. The Snowmen PT 2

Sherlock didn't arrive back at Baker Street until late in the afternoon. He had spent the majority of his time at the morgue. Molly had called rather early this morning with news that he had been granted access to an unclaimed body. The amount of hypotheses he was able to validate was sure to be assets in future cases.

Molly had been so kind to let him have the lab for some time. At some point it felt as if something was nagging him. Dutifully, he ignored it.

The cab ride was short, Sherlock was preoccupied by his phone most of the ride.

When Sherlock entered the flat the familiar sound of the slow tapping of keys did not greet him, nor was there any whistling of the kettle. It was unsurprisingly quiet. John appreciated the occasional calm and quiet air. Sherlock, on the other hand found it dull. How John had managed with it was a mystery. Sherlock closed the door behind him.

At this particular time it didn't seem that John was enjoying silence. His coat was missing. Sherlock hung his scarf and coat up. He made his way through the flat, cataloging things as he went. The kitchen was left mostly the same. John's mug had been moved from the counter by the kettle to the sink. The dishes were done. Sherlock decided that he would wait until John came back and made the tea. He had better things to do, like search for more useless information to delete.

Sherlock took his usual place on the couch, bringing his feet up as well. He brought his hands together and pursed his lips. The sound of honking cars and wailing alarms faded as his focus went towards his Mind Palace. All Sherlock was aware after a short while was his steady breathing and the wealth of information fluttering through his mind in rapid succession.

He didn't surface back fully to reality for hours.

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Sherlock's growing irritation was making it more difficult to focus as time went on. He had come back from his mind palace undisturbed. Hours had passed as per usual when he deleted things on such a massive scale, time was meaningless. By this point the sun had long since set. The air was cold inside the flat.

Despite the obviously late hour, John had yet to return home. Even if John had come back during his escapade in his mind, John always would murmur a quiet he's back or at the very least gotten some tea. John almost always put the kettle on when he would return home. There was no plausible way that John making tea would not go unnoticed, even in his past state. Sherlock didn't always keep track with John's coming and goings but he would certainly hear it. He should have heard something at the very least. It miffed the detective.

John could be at Sarah's. They weren't dating anymore after all, just friends. Still she would offer him her couch or duvet now and then. Sherlock had little problems with that arrangement. He just would prefer that John wasn't away at her house so much.

But John had reacted positively to his attempts at physical affection. It was possible that he was working overtime at the clinic. John was a kind person that if he was to be asked he wouldn't refuse. It looked exhausting and just didn't make any sense.

Sherlock plucked his phone from its place at his side. The device notified him of the email notification. It was probably about a case. Often it was. Sherlock retrieved John's laptop.

With effortless ease Sherlock unlocked his computer. His eyes flicked over the unread emails, almost bored. Lestrade, Lestrade, junk, fan, fan, fan, fan, Lestrade, and oh! Sherlock's lips twisted into a small smirk, the it turned into a scowl. The only thing that piqued his interest was the email from Harriet Watson. Something clicked in Sherlock's mind. _Of course. John mentioned he was going over to his sister's for the holiday._ Sherlock had been hardly paying attention at the time, too busy with the current case. (homicide, husband trying to frame his mistress for his wife's murder.)

His initial irritation towards John's absence subsided when he read the small message. The email was hardly interesting, it was what was attached. A small picture was taken (On a phone no doubt). He could see John clearly with what looked like, red hands, (left his gloves) cheeks pink due to the cold, and looked almost proud of what he had made. It was obvious he didn't realize what his sister had done. It was a small snowman with a scrap of cloth. The cloth was the same shade as Sherlock's scarf. Sherlock only spent a few seconds wondering where Harry got his email from, the site probably. It was foolish to think John would give her his email on his own accord, not with this anyways.

_Johnny made this while we were out. Thought you might appreciate it._

_-HW_

Sherlock would say it was endearing on how utterly childish it was for John to make this. There was another part of Sherlock; a sentimental part thought it was touching that John would make it. Perhaps John had missed him? Somehow his smirk morphed into a small smile. Sherlock almost felt warm at the thought. It was brief though as his mind started to churn.

If John had made this for him then should it only be proper that he should return something to John? It was obviously made in a way for Sherlock after all. Couples do those types of things, don't they? Sherlock frowned. Because they were a couple Sherlock had to do something for John. He could go get the milk but John would not be back till the end of the week at the very least. The milk would be gone by then. He had mentioned coming back for New Years though.

Sherlock ran his hands though his mess of hair. _This would not do._ Sherlock had to do something for John. It was only proper. Sherlock hopped up from the couch and started to pace. He had to get this right. The more he tried to think of something proper he thought of a con. It was almost ridiculous. Sherlock was a genius and yet he could not figure out a gift for John.

Sherlock had little sleep that night. John would probably say he disapproved of that. He was far too caring like that.

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Sherlock had been rifling through John's room when he got texts from Lestrade. A suicide and a homicide, no sign of forced entry and the murder weapon (gun) was missing. Sherlock sat, phone in hand, debating on just ignoring Lestrade. He had more important things to do than tend to a most likely open shut case. That's what he thought until he was told that there was no connection between the bodies. He could also use some other challenge then finding out what to get John.

John's room was left as it is. He could resume what he was doing later.

Sherlock fluttered around the flat in frenzy. He scooped up his scarf and coat. He frowned when he looked at the mantel. Mrs. Hudson had moved the skull once again. She didn't like it when Sherlock left in plain sight. What would the visitors think? She would often say. _Frivolous._ Why should he care what anyone else but John thought of him?

With a frown, Sherlock departed from his flat. He would have preferred the skull if not John. It wasn't like he could really help it though. It would be like his early days of consulting then. Fine.

Sherlock hailed a cab easily. He'd been practically glued to his phone the entire ride. It wasn't until the annoyance of heavy traffic demanded his attention. He glanced outside the window. He was only a few blocks away anyways. He could walk.

His lips curled into an annoyed scowl. Traffic would've taken it least fifteen minutes at this rate. Fifteen minutes and Sherlock could be at the crime scene. He had only lasted a few immobile minutes before hopped out of the cab. Sherlock threw a few bills at the surprised cabbie before taking off down the street.

Sherlock tightened the scarf around his neck. The air was nipping at his nose and cheeks but hardly warranted as a sufficient distraction from his ever whirring mind. Regardless of the impending case, his mind wandered back to John every so often. _What was he doing? Was he thinking of him?_ Sherlock smirked, he liked the thought of taking up John's thoughts. With the evidence provided by John's sister Sherlock knew that yes, John was thinking of him. A foreign sensation of warmth flickered dimly in his chest. How odd.

Sherlock glanced up at the nearest address. _A block or so away then_. Across the still bustling street sat a park. Children were screaming and running around. A family was making a rather large snowman, laughing merrily.

_John. _Sherlock stopped dead in his tracks. _Of course! How foolish of me!_ He thought to himself. He had his answer of what to do the moment he read Harry's email. It had stared back at him.

Promptly, Sherlock stalked towards a nearby snow bank. It was a pathetic excuse of one but it serve his purpose. He wanted his skull but this will do just as fine. Sherlock bent over and mashed together clumps of snow. He held it up, a satisfied smirk. _Perfect._

With his now temporary solution in hand he continued on to the crime scene. As usual Sergeant Donovan was there at the tape. She raised an eye brow upon seeing what he was holding. "John regain his senses and leave you, freak?" Said Donovan. "I hardly think what John does should concern you." He ducked underneath the tape. He stopped walking over, fixing a bored gaze on the Sergeant. "With the amount of cleaning you seem to be doing for Anderson I would say you charge him next time." Sherlock turned away, making a beeline for the entrance to a moderately nice flat. He ignored the irritable and irrelevant comment that followed behind him.

Sherlock strolled past various officers and up the stairs. Each member of the yard present gave him a slight look. "Sherlock…" Lestrade started. It seemed he forgot was he was going to say. "Is that a snowman, Sherlock?" He asked, incredulous. "Yes. If we could hurry this up, it's warm in here and snow-John will melt soon."

The soft murmuring of various officers hushed completely. Lestrade opened his mouth, only to close it a few seconds later. "Sherlock, why did you bring into the crime scene? What did you just call it?" He seemed more exasperated than anything else. Sherlock rolled his eyes at the obvious questions. "It's a replacement, only temporary I assure you. Just treat it like the skull. And it's Snow-John. It will hardly be a hindrance."

Lestrade eyed him for a few sparse seconds. "We've checked all the sources available and there is no connection between the vics." Sherlock smirked smugly. Lestrade accepted Snow-John with a surprising amount of ease. "Show me the bodies."

Sherlock was pleased as Lestrade allowed him a closer look at the bodies with no further questions to Snow-John.

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**I'm sorry. I am procrastinating on things I like now. But I have a spare this school term so I spent most of it doing this. Reviews would be greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading and taking time out of whatever you may be doing! Have a lovely day/evening/afternoon/morning. Again I appreciate you taking the time to read this.**

**I don't own anything but my own ideas. I've probably missed a bunch of mistakes as I don't have a beta.**

**I think I'll make this three parts. I really only meant to have two but I came up with a case. Not too fascinating but I think it's alright. I will not let this be forgotten nor shall I be so long in my update.  
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**-Muppet.**


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